


A Cure for the Dylan Hunt Blues

by Pythia (Mythichistorian)



Category: Andromeda, Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 17:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16978482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythichistorian/pseuds/Pythia
Summary: Dylan was sat in his cabin alone, moody and brooding and blue ...





	A Cure for the Dylan Hunt Blues

Beka and Trance were out buying supplies from a trader they’d dealt with before  
While Harper was fixing the tracking device that Tyr had been asking him for.  
The Reverend and Rommie were sharing a joke that was old when the stars were new  
And Dylan was sat in his cabin alone, moody and brooding and blue.

They’d paused for a while on a frontier world, where the law was loose and fast  
And the girl that he’d met (while saving her life) had reminded him of his past.  
‘It was a long time ago,’ he’d sighed with regret, sharing his sorrow with Trance,  
‘But I’ll never forget the woman I knew – and the way that we once used to dance.’ 

He paced and he fretted, recalling lost days, and the friends he had left far behind;  
The years of his youth and the time of his life – she had brought them all to mind.  
He lamented his past and he cursed the day he’d been betrayed by the best of his crew  
And he wept for the loss of the love of his life – and he lived it all anew.

He stayed in his cabin. He wouldn’t come out. His heart had been broken in two.  
And while Harper made jokes which fell rather flat, Rommie tried to decide what to do.  
‘I’ll save him,’ Tyr stated, and went for his gun, intending to shoot down the door  
But the Rev swiftly stepped in and deflected his aim, much as he’d done once before.

Back on the bridge the alarm sounded out. A ship was approaching real fast.  
They were under attack, Beka hadn’t come back, and Dylan was lost in his past.  
“Now what do we do?” Rommie begged of the crew; the situation was out of control  
‘The ship must come first,’ Tyr announced, looking grim – and commercials began to roll.

At the start of part two, the tension is high; Harper’s taken the slipstream apart.  
‘I was trying to fix it’, he complains bitterly. Tyr threatens to tear out his heart.  
‘I’m receiving a hail,’ Rommie notes with relief, ‘they say that they mean us no harm.  
They’re a courier ship coming in from the rim, and they’re sorry they caused such alarm.  
They’re asking to dock – they’ve a package to drop, with a message for our Captain Dylan.  
Shall I pipe them aboard? They’re unarmed, I’m assured, and they don’t sound like a potential villain.

‘Oh – what the heck,’ cried Harper, ‘why not? I’m sure we can deal with what comes.’  
‘Just bring ‘em aboard,’ Tyr grimly growled – and went to get several more guns.  
‘I’d welcome them truly,’ the Rev sweetly intoned, ‘my curiosity’s truly agog.  
But I’ll stay on the bridge just in case someone spots that I happen to be a Magog.’

‘I’ll go tell the Captain – except he won’t budge. In his cabin he’s sworn to remain.’  
Rommie sighed. She alone, in her heart, knew how deeply their Captain was pained.  
‘He’ll come out for me,’ cried a voice. ‘Ooh cooe! I hear that young Dylan is cranky.  
We’ll change all of that, or I’ll eat my hat,’ exclaimed the Widow Twanky.

She came sweeping aboard like a ship in full sail; a galleon, laden fullscore ,  
The crew stood and stared at her, mouths open wide, and just couldn’t believe what they saw.  
Out from his cabin, the Captain came prancing, and greeted the Widow with joy.  
‘Twanky,’ he cried, ‘you’re a sight for sore eyes.’ She grinned. ‘So are you, my dear boy.’

“So how long has it been?” “Don’t ask,” she returned, “Let’s not try to explain the position.  
For you’re wearing well, and I’m under a spell, and that’s quite enough plot exposition!”  
“So who is this dame?” Harper asked of the ship, but Rommie just shrugged, unenlightened.  
Her presence was blinding, her smile overwhelming – and for once in his life, Tyr was frightened!  
“I don’t know who she is,” he said with a hiss, “but I fear the dark power she’s wielding.  
For the Captain’s enchanted, and we must keep resisting – or to the spell in her eyes we’ll be yielding.”

Too late! It was done, and the party begun, as Andromeda stuck up the band  
And the ship now made flesh quickly slipped into a dress, as her Captain put out his hand.  
“Shall we dance?” he requested, and lead the way down; heading for cargo deck one.  
The crew followed after - like lambs to the slaughter? More like bullets lined up in a gun …

The deck was converted to ball room like splendor, with music and lighting to suit;  
“Just the thing,” declared Twanky, eyeing up the décor – then to Harper, she added, “you’re cute.”  
Just then Beka returned, supplies duly in hand, and with Trance disembarked, both wide eyed.  
Harper dived for his crewmate and clung to her wildly; “Be my partner,” he hastily cried.  
“Well, yeah, sure,” bemused Beka, staring around, at the ballroom décor – and the dame.  
“So what’s the occasion?” Dylan Hunt, with a grin, announced happily: “Twanky came!”

Well, the Rev, thinking fast, took Trance to the floor, and they cha-cha’d away with a will,  
And Beka, with Harper, soon leaned how to waltz – with stern tuition from sweet Diamond Lil.  
The Captain and Rommie then strutted their stuff, far faster than most ever can go –  
From polka, to foxtrot, through Latin to mambo – and finally started to tango!

Only Tyr stood apart, with a grim, quiet heart, watching the fun from a distance.  
“I don’t do dance,” he declared. Twanky sighed. “Looks like he needs a little assistance!”  
So she grabbed at his hand and twirled him around, with a stern “Watch me now” for good measure,  
And she showed him a step that was frighteningly fast – but one a Nietzschean could learn to treasure.  
“Now that I could do,” Tyr exclaimed in surprise, at which the Widow then started to giggle.  
“I’m sure that you could,” she quipped, with a grin. “Let me show you my patented twiddle!”

She taught him to hustle, which – with all his muscles – was a sight truly awesome to see,  
And the rest of the crew stopped boogying through, just to watch the jive mercenary.  
“May I?” Dylan asked, stepping in with a smile, and extending his hand to his guest.  
She simpered with pleasure and fluttered her eyelids – well, you can just picture the rest!  
“Anytime,” she decided, her voice husky and deep, and she winked her delight straight at Trance  
Then she took to the floor with a coquettish smile – my god, but that woman could dance!

So they stepped through the night and they stepped through the stars, and Dylan was cured of his blues.  
Andromeda waltzed though a nebula’s light and Tyr made peace with his muse.  
Harper and Beka both got very drunk, and Trance and the Rev both had fun  
‘Til the last note was sounded, the last step propounded – and the dancing was finally done.

In the morning they woke, bleary eyed and alone. The strange looking ship – it had vanished.  
But the Captain was merry and sharing a joke. His blues had been totally banished.  
‘Was it a dream?’ Rommie questioned in awe. ‘Can ships such as I share such wonders?’  
Tyr shrugged, Harper grinned, and Trance giggled aloud. The Rev simply pondered:  
‘There was a sickness in need of cure. Our Captain, so blue and so cranky.  
The answer was simple, we’ll know it again. When depressed – conjure up Widow Twanky!’

**Author's Note:**

> There's no-one quite like the Widow Twanky, whichever universe you happen to be in. And since there was a on screen sight gag in Andromeda that hinted at Dylan's herculean past, I've no doubt his old dance teacher would find a way to track him down if he was ever in need of her particular talents.
> 
> Like my 'The lost of the little brownish dog,' which can be found listed under my author's name on the Archive, this work was inspired by a music hall style monlogue: in this case, 'The shooting of Dan McGrew.' This version is a lot less violent, and hopefully a lot more fun!


End file.
